


As You Are

by chapscher



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Past Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 06:42:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12625386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapscher/pseuds/chapscher
Summary: Franklyn confronts his romantic feelings towards Tobias and his fears that Tobias may be a murderer. Time working against him, Franklyn must decide what he would do if Tobias is in fact guilty of murder, uncertain if he would turn him in even if he was certain of his guilt.





	As You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Winner of 2017 STAG Award for the category of "Fanfic – Other Pairs in the Hannibal Universe"
> 
> click [here](https://twitter.com/Moondancer1626/status/926264390776754176) to listen to Demore Barnes read an excerpt

“He’s not a violent person,” Franklyn said, leaning forward in his chair. “As long as I’ve known him I’ve never heard him even raise his voice. He’s calm, even-tempered… far more in control of his emotions than I ever have been with mine. I admire him for it. He’s my best friend. Am I to believe that he cancelled on me so he could go out and kill a man? I don’t. I just can’t. Sure he described exactly that kind of… that kind of death, but that doesn’t make him guilty of anything. I mean, I… I’m not… I’m not turning a blind eye to him, am I? I’m not letting our friendship… our… our friendship…”

“Franklyn?”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“We may return to this point, but I would like to ask you a question before we proceed.”

“Yes?”

“Do you intend on spending our entire session discussing Tobias?”

Franklyn felt his cheeks grow hot as Dr. Lecter watched him from the opposite chair. The doctor had never been anything but patient with him, something Franklyn was grateful for, but even now Franklyn was able to hear notes of annoyance in his voice.

Dr. Lecter crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair. “Before this week you had only mentioned your friend once or twice. Now you’ve been talking about him for the past two sessions. Is this because I have met him or because things have changed between the two of you?”

“Both? I don’t know. Before the charity concert Tobias and I would only see each other once every two or three weeks for coffee or something. To go to the symphony. But ever since that night two weeks ago he’s been messaging me every day. Just yesterday he called me over to his shop for a few drinks. And he invited me to one of his student’s recitals tomorrow.”

“Do you know what triggered this change?”

“No. I mean… except… When I was driving him home from the charity concert he seemed kind of… I don’t know… jealous?”

Franklyn wrung his hands, wishing his cheeks wouldn’t feel so warm. Dr. Lecter tapped quietly at his notepad with the pen, not writing as much as he was waiting. When Franklyn didn’t say anything more Dr. Lecter spoke up.

“Describe ‘jealous.’”

“He… um… he brought you up a lot. Saying things that suggested that I was more interested in watching you than watching the concert. He said, um, ‘I didn’t know I was going to be a third wheel on your date with your therapist,” and stuff like that. Then he… um… you know those really dark jokes he’s been making? Like the one about turning someone into a cello?”

“Yes.”

“That was about you.”

Dr. Lecter seemed overall unfazed by this, but he did stop tapping the pen.

“Really,” Franklyn continued, “that’s what I’m holding on to. When I heard about what happened to Douglas Wilson my first thought went to Tobias. But since it was him and not you… I just think there’s room for doubt.”

“How did you react to him describing this murder?”

“I told him to knock it off. That’s when he said he was just kidding. ‘I barely get to see you, Franklyn. But you looked more interested in him than anything else tonight.’ He wasn’t angry when he said that. He didn’t look or sound angry. He seemed more… sad? Rejected? I don’t know.”

“Overall his actions do suggest jealousy.”

“Like… friendship jealousy?”

Dr. Lecter looked directly into Franklyn’s eyes and Franklyn swallowed hard.

“Franklyn, to you do Tobias’ words and actions suggest those of someone pursuing a friendship or a courtship?”

Franklyn furrowed his brow and focused his attention on the little glass table at his therapist’s side. The light from the tall windows streamed in, catching the metal frame and casting odd glows across the surface. He noted the strange angles, approximating degrees and making quiet measurements. This line of thought was as automatic and as natural to him as Tobias’ counting and keeping rhythm to the background music in restaurants or even the hum of an engine. At times they were merely calculations made to fill the gaps between thoughts.

More often, they were calculations made to avoid thinking of more important and pressing matters.

The thing with simple mathematics and even the physics of sound was that questions had right or wrong answers. If you have all the information needed, then, even if nobody in history had ever encountered this exact problem before, the problem was entirely solvable. And if you can’t measure things in your head then you find a tool. And the measurements you find will comply with known laws of mathematics and be entirely logical.

This was where Franklyn was the most comfortable. It’s why he genuinely enjoyed working with computers at the bank. Socializing, however, was a different problem. All the information about Tobias seemed to run together and whenever he tried to tackle this problem he only found himself bombarded by facts that may or may not even matter. Tobias runs a string shop. Tobias used to play second violin in the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. Franklyn had been crying when they first met. Tobias had to leave the orchestra after a traumatic injury caused retinal detachment in both eyes. The injury was not caused by a vehicle. Tobias makes his own strings but tells everyone that they’re imported. Tobias can’t eat dairy and always puts two sugars in his coffee. When he smiles the smallest trace of dimples appear on his cheeks.  

But no matter how many facts he could conjure together it wasn’t enough to form an answer to the question Dr. Lecter asked. Or maybe it did, but Franklyn didn’t know what to do about it. Tobias wasn’t the only person involved in this equation, Franklyn knew that. The fact that he had developed feelings towards his best friend may be something he could hide from his therapist, but he knew he couldn’t hide it from himself. The degrees of romantic and sexual desires were still being calculated, but Franklyn knew they were there. That was enough. Unfortunately, he knew that this could make him see something in Tobias that wasn’t really there.

“I don’t know,” Franklyn finally said. “I don’t know what he wants. I can’t even think of a way to ask him that doesn’t sound like I’m trying to lead him to a certain answer.”

“What about that specifically concerns you? That he would know that you only hold him to the bonds of friendship? Do you feel that would be a problem?”

“I’m afraid that he wouldn’t be truthful. That he would say what he thinks I want to hear to get me to stop asking. Although… that doesn’t sound like him, does it? Which would mean… if he wasn’t truthful then he wouldn’t do it to appease me, but… because he wouldn’t trust me with the truth. Which would mean… we’re not as good of friends as I thought. Which is far worse than any way he could directly answer ‘what’s going on?’”

“In that case, what do you think would happen if you didn’t confront him? Do you expect him to be straightforward with you about his intentions?”

“Y-no. No… but I don’t expect him to necessarily hide them either. I think he expects me to just know what he’s trying to do.”

Dr. Lecter looked at his watch and set his notepad aside. Their hour was up.

“But yes,” Franklyn blurted out before his therapist could stand and escort him to the door. “I think he’s courting me.”

Dr. Lecter nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good start, Franklyn.”

  

 

 

At first Franklyn was relieved when he arrived at the concert to find Tobias deep in conversation with a few of his former students. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but seeing Tobias occupied calmed him down, even if he himself didn’t have anyone to talk to. The merchandise of the Chordophone Strings Shop was cleared out and replaced with buffet tables and folding chairs for the recital. Every once in a while Tobias and Franklyn would make eye-contact and exchange polite smiles before someone else demanded Tobias’ attention. Franklyn didn’t mind. If this kept up then Tobias might be too tired by the time everyone leaves and they could spend another night avoiding this particularly awkward conversation.

The crowd was orderly and moved effortlessly between the shop and the studio, lined with chairs. Franklyn took a seat in a quiet corner where the double bass was usually displayed, far enough away from the soloist and the crowd who had been surrounding Tobias. As he waited for everyone else to get situated he chided himself for continuing to run from him. “It’s not like you’re the first person to ever fall in love with his best friend,” Franklyn muttered to himself.

He took a deep breath as the soloist began to play. “The lion is not in the room.” That’s what Dr. Lecter told him, and in that moment he tried to believe it. Maybe this conversation won’t happen. Maybe it will happen but Tobias would be open and honest with him. “I’m flattered, but I only see you as a friend.” Franklyn decided that that’s probably what Tobias would tell him. He could live with that. He could be happy with that. After all, Tobias’ friendship meant the world to him and to hear Tobias say the nature of their relationship aloud would be exhilarating.

There is a love in friendship.

The musician ended the first piece and smiled at the applauding crowd. Franklyn peered through rows of heads to see Tobias clapping and beaming at his pupil. This was the Tobias he knew. He was a man who adored music, worshiping it with an intense but refined reverence. A far cry from a sulking and bitter self that Franklyn saw after the charity concert.

“He wouldn’t be so handsome if he were strapped to a chair with the neck of a cello shoved down his eviscerated throat,” Tobias echoed in Franklyn’s memory. “Well… maybe if I played Offenbach on him.”

Franklyn shut his eyes, hoping that he could force the memory away. He wished he didn’t read the news that morning where exactly that was described being done to the late trombonist. This was something he wished he didn’t have to worry about but couldn’t shake the nagging suspicion that Tobias just might have done it. And if he did, why would Tobias tell him?

No. He wouldn’t do that, Franklyn thought as he tried to focus on the recital. That’s the paranoia, he was sure. It was an incredible coincidence.

Perhaps too in-credible.

He reminded himself that just because a few tests on the internet said that Tobias was a sociopath doesn’t mean that he actually was. And even if he was, there’s more to him than that. And it’s no small point that Franklyn had never felt that he was in any danger when he was with Tobias. Tobias was one of the few people who could make him feel safe.

Franklyn peered through heads, hoping that in just seeing Tobias’ shoulder that he would be hit with that sense of calm and all these fears would disappear.

They didn’t. No matter how hard Franklyn tried to focus on him that sense refused to surface.

The rest of the concert Franklyn spent half-listening and mostly focusing on the angles that the windows in the studio made behind the cellist.

 

 

  

After the concert Franklyn lingered behind in the studio while everyone else swept Tobias and his student away into the shop to continue showering them with attention. The time that Franklyn had to spend worrying over what Tobias felt towards him and if Tobias was actually dangerous had took such a toll on Franklyn that he started to become genuinely annoyed that all this wasn’t coming to a head. Would it be weird for him to stay longer than everyone else so Tobias would talk to him? Why did Tobias invite him anyways?

“Well, Franklyn,” Franklyn said quietly to himself as he began folding up chairs. “Maybe it’s because he’s under some crazy impression that you enjoy music. Doesn’t that sound more likely than anything else you thought up today? Not everyone bases their entire schedule around you.”

All the chairs were folded up far too quickly and left Franklyn standing in the empty room and feeling very foolish. There were still people talking in the shop and Franklyn was considering going home when Tobias finally stepped in and partially shut the door behind him. Franklyn looked to Tobias, then to the door. Tobias only smiled.

“They wouldn’t stop talking,” he said, his voice as warm as it ever was. “I’m glad you were able to make it. Did you like the performance?”

“Of course. The Bach especially.”

“All of my students are well-versed in The Master. I make a point of it. I have ever since I saw how The Goldberg Variations brought tears to your eyes when Martha Argerich played with our symphony.”

“That’s the night we met.”

Tobias paused for a second to think. “It was, wasn’t it?”

Franklyn only smiled as he helped Tobias move the baby grand piano back into its proper place and close the curtains. The Chordophone had grown much quieter as the guests slowly departed one by one. Tobias loosened his tie and opened his shirt cuffs, looking oddly relaxed in spite of his lingering formal demeanor.

“I didn’t realize that you didn’t exactly know anyone here.” Tobias said. “You’ve been alone all evening.”

“Don’t worry about that. It was a good concert.”

Tobias smiled, but there was a certain sternness that lingered in his eyes that didn’t put Franklyn at ease.

“You’ll never guess who stopped by the shop yesterday,” Tobias said as he set the bust of Beethoven back onto the piano.

“Who?”

“Dr. Lecter.” He paused, allowing their eyes to meet and watching a flash of panic jolt through Franklyn. “Don’t worry. It wasn’t about you. He’s far too professional to do anything to betray what you have confided in him.”

“Oh.”

“Although I thought the timing of his visit was interesting,” Tobias continued as he set books and music stands back to their proper place. “I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been the subject of discussion.”

“I may have brought you up,” Franklyn said, attempting nonchalance as he restrained himself from begging Tobias to tell him everything that happened. “We’re friends, after all.”

“We are. And that’s I suppose how I came to restring his harpsichord.” Tobias picked up a notebook of manuscript paper and flipped through it for a moment before putting it back on the shelf. “That wasn’t a euphemism. But I was able to have dinner with him.”

“R-Really? I’ve only heard stories about Dr. Lecter’s dinner parties. Was it really as fascinating as Ms. Komeda said it was?”

“As usual, she exaggerated the grandiosity of it. But it tasted wonderful.”

Franklyn smiled, picturing the two most prominent men in his life sitting across from each other at a lavish feast. “What do you think it would take for me to get invited to that table?”

Tobias paused in his re-ordering of the room and Franklyn mentally kicked himself.

“With you, of course,” Franklyn added.

“You know he can’t invite a patient of his to a social event,” Tobias said, turning his attention back to Franklyn. “However, I was able to catch glimpses of him cooking while I worked. I have a sense of the ingredients he used. Perhaps I could replicate the meal for you sometime.”

“Oh! I’d like that.”

“I’m sure you will.” Tobias smiled and gave Franklyn’s shoulder a light squeeze. “Stay here, there’s something I would like to show you, but I need to chase everyone out first. Is that alright?”

Franklyn nodded and Tobias disappeared out the door. Alone again, Franklyn looked around the room, which had returned to its usual arrangement. He thought of the times he had stopped by to pick up Tobias on the way to the symphony, only to hear him practicing. Franklyn had dampened the bell on the door each time he heard Tobias playing in the studio. Every time Tobias claimed that he didn’t hear Franklyn and apologized for making him wait, but they both knew that Tobias loved being able to perform in whatever way he could. Even if it was just to an audience of one.

Franklyn vowed to one day ask him about that composition. To finally hear it in its entirety.

The bell on the door jingled a few times and Tobias came back into the studio.

“Alone at last,” Tobias said, to which Franklyn could only give a somewhat apprehensive half-laugh. “Come, I’ve been wanting to show you this.”

Franklyn followed Tobias to a door that was partially obscured by music stands. Setting them aside, Tobias took a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Franklyn followed him down an old but sturdy staircase into the basement. He had always known that Tobias made his own gut, but this just wasn’t what he expected. It seemed like a craft that was so precise and clinical that he always imagined something like a laboratory in Tobias’ basement. But this was more like a dungeon, with the heavy air smelling slightly of decay.

“My workshop,” Tobias said, taking Franklyn’s hand so he didn’t trip on the slightly taller final step.

Franklyn hesitated to walk far from the stairs, his eyes on unfinished wooden shelves lined with large glass jars filled with long, pale coils of intestines.

“I get them from a local slaughterhouse,” Tobias said, leading Franklyn back to large sinks and basins that lined the far end of the basement. “They have to go through several treatments and processes before they’re finished. I have to come down here quite a few times a day. That is, if I’m not already here and working on building the violins themselves.”

He stopped before a table and motioned Franklyn to come closer. Upon it were two deep bowls filled with a fluid that smelled a little like sulfur. In a large pile at the bottom of one of the bowls was a mass of what looked like a dead sea creature, all thin white tentacles and parts of it floating upwards but not quite touching the surface.

“Cleaned, salted, and scraped of fat and mucus,” Tobias said as he pulled a wooden stool out from under the table. “Still long from finished. This part demands the most of me. Sit down.”

Franklyn sat and watched quietly as Tobias took a stool from under his wood carving desk and sat across the table from him.

“It’s a simple process that I need to do five times a day for a week. I’ve already been at it for six days and this will be the last round until tomorrow. Would you like to help me?”

“I don’t know how.”

Tobias took out two copper thimbles, setting one on the table in front of Franklyn and putting the other one on. He took off his jacket and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. “You hold the gut between the thimble and your index finger.” He demonstrated, tilting his hand so Franklyn could see clearly. “Then, applying firm but gentle pressure, you pull it between the thimble and finger, leading it into this other bowl until you have scraped the entire strand. Then you do the next one.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. Told you it was easy.” Tobias watched as Franklyn put on the thimble and followed Tobias’ lead. “Of course, there’s a lot more to do after this step, but this demands the most time, I think.”

Franklyn replicated what Tobias did as best he could, relieved when he looked up and Tobias seemed pleased.

“How did you get into this?” Franklyn asked as he steadily fed the strand of gut through his fingers and into the opposite bowl. “I mean, at first blush it seems kinda… I dunno… gruesome?”

“No more gruesome than sausage making.”

“That’s true, I suppose.”

“Ever since I started playing the violin I always wanted to make my own. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the space to work or the expenses for materials for the longest time. And by the time I did. Well… focusing my eyes for intricate work was something I couldn’t exactly do comfortably anymore, at least not for very long.”

“Because of the detached retina thing?”

“Yes.”

“Did they ever catch the guys who attacked you?”

Tobias didn’t respond as he monitored the two sets of hands cleaning two strands of gut. Franklyn swallowed and watched Tobias concentrate, brow furrowed slightly.

“I’m sorry,” Franklyn said.

“I try not to think of them anymore,” Tobias said. “It’s been years. I’ve been over it countless times – just what I could have done differently in the aftermath. Who I should have gone to to make the police listen. But… I don’t know. I’ve dealt with things in my own way. I have my own shop now. And this… ritual of sorts. Coming down here every day and just working.”

“You went through a lot.”

“You think I’m still dealing with it?”

“Are you?”

Tobias adjusted Franklyn’s hand, which had slowly loosened its grip on the strand as they spoke. “I know you’re still haunted,” Tobias said. “By what happened to you back when you were in the fraternity.”

“Tobias.”

“It’s the sort of thing that most people don’t just say they ‘lived through,’ but that they ‘survived’ it.”

“They said if I agreed that they’ll help me keep my scholarship. So I did. They followed through on their promise and I graduated the next spring. End of story.”

“It was sexual assault, Franklyn. And humiliation.”

“And a long time ago.”

“Did you ever tell Dr. Lecter about it?”

Franklyn said nothing, regretting bringing up Tobias’ eyes.

“What happened to you has meaning, Franklyn. Your experience counts for something. I know it may not always mean much to you, but it does to me. And if you won’t be, then I’ll be furious on your behalf.”

Franklyn bit his lip to keep himself from reacting to Tobias’ tone growing harsh. “Let’s just drop it.”

Tobias looked up to see Franklyn’s eyes begin to water. Hands steady, Franklyn pulled the last strand through his fingers before folding his hands in his lap. Tobias took off his copper thimble and stood, drying his hands on a rag he kept hanging over the side of the table.

“I didn't mean to scare you,” he said as he stood and set the bowls aside. “I just… I hate them.”

“I know you do,” Franklyn said, taking off his thimble. “I haven't forgiven them.”

“You shouldn't.”

“I know.” Franklyn dried his hands, wringing them between the folds of the towel in thought. “There's nothing I can do about it now. I’m just… living with that shadow, I guess. Existing in spite of them.”

“Do you ever wonder what happened to them? Your incestuous fraternity brothers?”

“No.”

“You should look them up.”

“Tobias, stop.”

The two fell silent as Tobias led him to a small sink to wash his hands. Franklyn took his time scrubbing his skin clean of any residue of the gut, although he was sure that the scent of sulfur would linger on him for hours. It was strange that he had never noticed that distinct odor on Tobias’ hands or clothes, although now he realized that it was probably masked by the rich warm cologne he often wore.

“I want to leave this,” Tobias said as soon as Franklyn turned off the tap. “I’ve been wanting to for years. To drop everything - the shop, the studio - and leave Baltimore. Leave the whole damn country. Do you know what I mean? To just want to run away.”

“Tell me that you didn't kill that trombonist.”

“Where’s this coming from?”

“Please don’t lie to me, Tobias.”

Tobias didn't say anything as he and Franklyn stood unmoving. The faucet dripped its last few drops before turning off entirely and the heater in the corner hummed. Franklyn waited, cheeks growing hot as Tobias dragged his silence out longer than any innocent man could have.

“Don’t ask questions you don't want the answer to,” Tobias finally said. Franklyn drew in a shaky breath, face getting hotter as his heart began to race. “I wouldn't hurt you, Franklyn. That's not why I brought you down here. You know that. I know you know that.”

“But why did you do it?” he asked, hating how the fear and uncertainty of all this made his voice unsteady. “Did he hurt someone? Did he hurt you? W-what… I mean… why him?”

“It doesn’t matter, Franklyn.”

“It does! Tobias, you… you’ve done a terrible thing. You wish you didn’t, I know you wish you didn’t.” Franklyn looked up at Tobias, Tobias’ expression cold and unmoved. “I know you’re scared.”

“Franklyn.”

“I won’t ask you to turn yourself in. But… you need help.” Franklyn drew in a shaky breath, eyes watering and throat tight. “Or is that why you want to run away? So you can become someone else?”

“I want to run away because I want the police to try to catch me.”

Franklyn shook his head, his brow furrowing. “What are you trying to prove? To see if you could get away with it? After… after killing him and putting the body on display? After confessing to me? Why? Who are you trying to prove yourself to?”

“Oh come on, Franklyn. We don’t all need constant validation.”

The words hit Franklyn like a slap across the face, barely able to breathe as he stood before Tobias in stunned silence. Dread turned to shock turned to a painful nausea and he took a step towards the stairs.

“I think I should leave.”

“Franklyn, wait.”

“No, I… uh…”

Franklyn kept walking away and Tobias grabbed him by the wrist. He froze, too scared to even try to pull away. Behind Tobias were the shelves lined with intestines and long strings of gut hanging from the walls. For an instant Franklyn could see Tobias’ hands coated in blood as he pulled out the long and looping organ from a human corpse. The thought was too morbid for him to linger upon, but part of him wondered “what if?”

Heart pounding in his ears, Franklyn took a steadying breath. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know. I don’t… I don’t know,” Franklyn said, his voice cracking. “How do you think this ends? With you fighting the police? Getting killed? With me reading about you and what you did in the news? That and losing my best friend in the same moment? Even if you don’t die you’ll have to disappear. I’ll lose you either way. How did you think I’d react to th-”

“-That won’t happen, Franklyn.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” Tobias let go of Franklyn’s wrist and stepped in close to him. “I won’t get killed by the police. And, where I go… where I go I want you to come with me. We can leave together. I could make it look like I killed you before running off if you want; to save you the guilt of not saying goodbye. So Baltimore knows that you were innocent in all this even as you hide with me.”

Franklyn closed his eyes in thought. The world was hitting him in waves and he felt he was so far beneath the wash of revelations that all he could do was stare past them at the glimmer of a life that was once so familiar it was all he knew. There was nothing left for him to do but wait for this new reality to set in.

“I know a place,” Tobias said, cupping the side of Franklyn’s face in his hand. “There are people I used to work with who owe me favors and I have had my eye on this little shop in Berlin. That’s where they’re performing now. You’ll like it there, Franklyn. We can have a small business all our own, not too far from the conservatory. We could walk to the symphony every weekend if you want. I could focus on giving lessons while you handle the financial matters. You’ve always been better with numbers. And you can help me in my workshop. We could do very well together, the two of us. I always thought this place was too big for one person.”

“You want me to run away with you?”

“Of course,” Tobias said. “It doesn’t have to be with the police following us, Franklyn. We could just leave together without a forwarding address. Either way, the police may come by if only because I own a string shop. It would be sooner rather than later.”

Franklyn took Tobias by the wrist, gently guiding his hand away from his face. “I… I need to think about this.”

“I understand.”

“And I want to go home.”

“Let me walk you to the door?”

Franklyn nodded and Tobias led him back up the steps, turning off the basement light on their way out. As he stepped into the studio the recital felt like it was months ago, entirely detached from the way things are now.

“It will take no time at all for me to leave,” Tobias said as he walked Franklyn into the shop. “I already have my suitcases packed. In case you wanted us to leave Baltimore tonight.”

“N-no. No. Not tonight.”

“We don’t have much time, Franklyn. I wouldn’t let the police quietly walk out of here when they do wander in.”

“God, Tobias.” Franklyn rubbed his watering eyes and took a deep breath. “You don’t have to.”

“Don’t you think I should be caught for what I’ve done?”

Franklyn couldn’t speak as a tear rolled down his cheek before he could stop it. He was about to wipe away the wet trail but Tobias stopped him, cupping his face in his hands again. Tobias gently caressed Franklyn’s cheek with his thumb, spreading the tear across warm skin.

“I’m not doing this to hurt you, Franklyn,” Tobias said, his voice soft. “I don't want to hurt you. You’ve seen how upset I become when I see people talk down to you or be dismissive or harsh. If anything I want to protect you from people like that.”

“Don't say that you killed the trombonist because of me. I don't want to hear that, Tobias.”

Tobias sighed, letting go of the side of Franklyn's face and holding his shoulders. “No. I didn't. But I knew the world would be gentler for people like you if people like him weren't in it.”

“I made it easier?”

“Yes.”

Franklyn nodded slowly, torn between his impulse to leave and his need to take care of Tobias. He couldn't imagine how the weight of this confession must feel, but he knew he didn't want to abandon him now.

“Are you going to call the police?” Tobias asked.

Franklyn shook his head.

“Do you want me to turn myself in?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you want to run away with me?” Tobias asked, but Franklyn didn't respond. He lightly rubbed Franklyn's shoulders as he thought. “I would like you to. I… I know I would like you to. I’ve thought about running away in the past, long before I met you. But I couldn't bring myself to. It… it just sounded like such a lonesome prospect. Like I would leave a lonely life here only to travel alone and live in solitude somewhere else. I imagined a distant workshop that I have arranged just like this one and a shop with similar clientele. But once I started imagining you… the world suddenly felt so much bigger. Do you know what I mean, Franklyn? Do you see why I had to show you who I am?”

“You don't have to be alone, Tobias,” Franklyn said, taking a small step towards him to prove his point. “But I want you to get help. Maybe you can even talk to Dr. Lecter.”

“Franklyn, there are things you don't know about your therapist. Things I discovered. I’m not sure if I want you to see him anymore.”

“Tobias, I-”

“I mean it, Franklyn. The next time you see him I want you to ask for a referral.”

“He’s a good therapist. Are… you’re not jealous of him, are you?”

“No. I just don't think he has your best interests in mind.”

Franklyn took another step forward and Tobias wrapped his arms around him.

It would be an understatement to say that Tobias was not a physically affectionate person. Franklyn had tried to hold him before, usually after a night at the opera and before they parted ways. But Tobias had always seemed so polished that Franklyn shied away from him, afraid that any attempt at an embrace would be like clinging to a statue. He had imagined that for so long that Franklyn was genuinely surprised at the warmth of Tobias’ chest and the comforting weight of his hands on his back.

It was all so unlike the person Tobias tried to be. Franklyn had always been able to sense a division between who he was when they were at the opera and who he was when they were alone. In his more frustrated moments Franklyn imagined being able to tear down the wall between those two sides of him. Perhaps one day, he liked to think, Tobias would be so comfortable with him that he could truly smile when they went out together. One day Tobias would laugh in public and Franklyn would be able to socialize when he left the house. Look what they bring out in each other, the familiar opera-crowd would think.

The prospect had teased him, glimmering just on the very edge of his reality. It flickered in his mind one last time before it was swallowed into darkness by revelation.

“I need someone who understands me,” Tobias said against the curls of Franklyn’s hair. “Someone who sees me for who I am.”

“I don't understand you, Tobias.”

“I think you could.”

Franklyn said nothing as Tobias held him. He tried not to imagine Tobias forcing the neck of a cello down the trombonist’s throat. Instead he pictured Tobias with his violin in hand, feigning embarrassment at being caught playing his own composition. That was the sweet vulnerable moment he wanted Tobias to hold him in. Franklyn tilted his head into the folds of Tobias’ suit, wondering if there was any way to undo the connection he made between the familiar once-undefined scent lingering on Tobias’ hands and the memory of intestines lining the walls and filling the shelves.

Any of Franklyn’s attempts at separating himself from the moment dissolved as soon as he felt Tobias’ lips against his neck. He froze, not afraid as much as he was curious. The kiss was not a demand but a statement. However, what exactly that statement was he couldn’t tell for certain. Franklyn barely had any time to acknowledge the kiss, let alone analyze it, before Tobias pulled away.

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” he said as he led Franklyn to the door. “I’ll be here until the police get a warrant. Unless they feel like going into the basement without it. Which they will. In which case… I’ll be here until then.”

“The… the basement.”

They filled the shelves like so many canopic jars.

The door clicked as Tobias unlocked and opened it and let the early winter air breathe into the shop.

“Goodnight, Franklyn.”

Franklyn put on his coat but paused as soon as he felt the gloves folded into his coat pocket. What had he run through his fingers? He didn’t put them on, deciding that letting his hands grow cold and numb would be what he needed now.

“Goodnight, Tobias,” Franklyn said. He stepped down to the small path leading to the sidewalk. “Um… how will I know when you’re leaving?”

Tobias smiled, but not with his eyes. “You’ll know.”

 

 

  

The next day Franklyn sat in the waiting room outside of Dr. Hannibal Lecter’s office, mind swimming and slightly nauseous. “Mind swimming and slightly nauseous” was how he had felt since about two o’clock that morning, which was when he tried to calm down and go to bed.

“You should look them up,” he remembered Tobias saying. “Your incestuous fraternity brothers.”

He wasn’t sure what to expect but he knew that Tobias wouldn’t have said that if he didn’t already know what Franklyn would find. So as he lay in bed he took out his phone and searched their names. As the search page loaded he knew that nothing good must have happened to them. Perhaps each and every one of them was charged for some other assault. Or maybe Jon, the chapter president, was arrested for theft; finally meeting the limits of what his wealthy father was able to pay for forgiveness.

In retrospect, he should have anticipated that Jon was found dead a few weeks ago. The other two had been reported missing several months before that and not too long after Franklyn first told Tobias about what had happened to him. Each of the articles were too vague about their fates, saying little more than that the police had no leads. Franklyn kept searching, not satisfied with the local news reports, but he wished he hadn't gone onto that morbid crime site. He wished he didn't see pictures of Jon’s body, a thick metal pipe forced down his throat and another shoved into his rectum. He wished he didn't see the massive gash where his intestines were removed.

He knew this was done for him. A present for him. And he was disturbed and fascinated in equal measure. Tobias had killed at least one man in his honor. And he had harvested his intestines, he was sure. They were probably in one of the jars in Tobias’ basement. Maybe they were already treated and drying in long coils on the walls. Or perhaps he had put his hands on them, pulling Jon between his fingers and that small copper thimble.

If that was what happened, shouldn't he feel some level of remorse? Isn't that what people are supposed to feel when they learned that they helped desecrate a body? He knew he should be disgusted with himself but try as he might he couldn't feel anything, save a rush of curiosity.

Two days ago Dr. Lecter told Franklyn that he may be projecting his faults onto Tobias. “Although you may be attracted to them,” Dr. Lecter had said, “you yourself are not a sociopath.” And that's what he clung to now. The lack of repulsion he felt was entirely normal given how badly Jon had hurt him. It didn't mean that he wanted it to happen.

Franklyn had fantasized about something horrible happening to him, but that doesn't mean anything. Does it? It's not like he did anything about it. He never told Tobias about that fantasy. It's not his fault it happened.

But it may be.

As disturbing and anxiety producing as this all was, Franklyn still couldn't say that he felt sorry for what had happened to Jon. Not even for a moment did he even consider mourning him or any of the men who disappeared. He wasn't sure if he was glad that they were dead, but he was relieved to know that they weren't hurting people anymore.

And as he sat in the waiting room he tried to figure out just how much of this he would tell his therapist. He hated talking about his assault, thinking it made him sound like he was lingering on it – emotionally and sexually stunted, trapped in the last year of his undergrad. Tobias was the only person he told all the details to. That was also when Franklyn saw Tobias' facade crack for the first time, giving way to fury.

The first time he realized that he meant something to Tobias.

Franklyn’s heart quickened slightly as he heard the doorknob to Dr. Lecter’s office click. Tobias had told him to ask for a referral, but he wasn’t sure if he was able to. Tobias had made it sound so urgent even though it was something he had never mentioned before.

The request to look up Jon and the others seemed to have come out of nowhere too.

The door opened and Dr. Lecter gave him a polite smile and nod. Franklyn got to his feet and followed him into his office.

He wondered what Tobias knew about Dr. Lecter that made him say that. Just what did they talk about?

“Good afternoon, Franklyn,” Dr. Lecter said. “How have you been since our last meeting?”

“A-alright.”

As Franklyn sat down in his usual chair he felt a heavy knot of dread tie itself in the pit of his stomach. He glanced over to the harpsichord in the corner, imagining the pale strands of potentially human gut that were pulled taut and tuned. When he turned his attention back to Dr. Lecter he saw that he had noticed him looking at the instrument. And in that moment there was something odd and familiar behind his eyes.

It was almost like he knew. Not only that, but that he knew Franklyn knew.

His heart was beating so fast that Franklyn’s lips tingled with a strange numbness. Years of hiding panic attacks at the office had trained Franklyn to look calm in his chair, expression unchanged as he tried to remember how a normal therapy session began.

“The lion is not in the room,” he reminded himself.

He rejected that mantra before he even finished thinking it. He was counting lions at this point, frozen as he calculated how far he would be able to run before one of them closed their jaws around his neck.

“I have a lot to talk with you about,” Franklyn blurted out before his instincts to shy away and shut down could take over. Forming conspiracy theories about his best friend and his therapist was absurd, he decided. This was nothing more than old unhealthy habits surfacing after a sleepless night.

That was another thought that he immediately rejected, although it was too late. This time the words were already out of his mouth and Dr. Lecter was sure to ask him about the concert.

“And I would like to talk,” Dr. Lecter said. “However, there is something important I need to discuss with you first.”

“Yes, Doctor?”

“I’m afraid that I am a distraction to your therapy,” he said, his voice calm and matter-of-fact. “I am under the impression that you are dissatisfied with the bonds of our doctor/patient relationship. You have mentioned a few times that you desire to be friends with me and that you don’t know enough about my personal life.”

Franklyn took a moment to review what Dr. Lecter just said, not sure if he was absorbing it as he should. Not because this should have devastated him, but because that feeling of dread was entirely unchanged, as if he was waiting for something else. He wondered why.

“I just think there’s a lot we can talk about,” Franklyn said. “I read your article, ‘Evolutionary Origins of Social Exclusion.’ I thought it was fascinating, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the man behind it. The loneliness he must feel and how well we would be able to understand each other.”

Dr. Lecter nodded slowly. “I see you’ve done your research into _The Journal of Clinical Psychiatry_.”

“Is that so unusual? I’d imagine that most patients would want to research their doctors.”

“Patients tend to be curious how their therapist would perform when confronted with their particular case. Taking an academic article and then extrapolating hypotheses about their private life is a different matter.”

“Only because I thought it was strange that I found so little about you. I’m not sure where you studied before you went to Johns Hopkins. Not that I doubt your credentials, that’s not why at all. It’s just that… I dunno. Most doctors display themselves so prominently. When I looked into you I only got so far as to know that you studied in Italy about fifteen years ago, and of that I found very little. That’s an entire, what? Twenty-something years that are unaccounted for. I can’t even place your accent. And When I googled the surname ‘Lecter’ I barely got any results, and the ones I did get suggested that it’s either a German or Spanish name. But those aren’t your first languages, are they?”

“My origins are irrelevant to your treatment, Franklyn.”

“I feel that if I knew more about you then… I don’t know. Maybe it would feel like I’m talking to an entirely different person. Or maybe not. Either way, it would satisfy my curiosity about you.”

“This is a distraction, Franklyn; and I have no desire to impede the progress you were making.” Dr. Lecter crossed his legs and paged through a small pile of papers sitting on the glass table beside him, looking for something. “I’m giving you a referral.”

“ _You_ were a referral,” Franklyn said, perhaps a bit too sharply. He took a deep breath. “Is this because of Tobias?”

“In what way do you feel this is about Tobias?”

“Because you two had dinner together two nights ago.”

Dr. Lecter paused, his dark eyes no longer scanning over papers and business cards. “How did you come upon this information, Franklyn?”

“Because he told me last night. He…” Franklyn bit his lip, already decided that he won’t tell his doctor too much about what he learned. “He didn’t threaten you, did he? If you continued seeing me?”

“Tobias had no influence over this decision. His visit was purely business. Why do you ask if he threatened me?”

“I… I don’t know.”

Dr. Lecter watched him, patiently waiting for Franklyn to say something more about Tobias. Franklyn’s sense of impending danger refused to do anything but intensify as he sat in silence, hoping that Dr. Lecter could tell him more about the therapist he was referring him to.

“Would you like to talk about Tobias before we discuss the next steps you will be taking in your therapy?” he asked. “I know it’s difficult. An unrequited friendship can be as devastating as an unrequited love. It can complicate things, seeing as he is your best friend, but you are not his.”

Those words made the knot in Franklyn’s stomach tighten. With what happened last night he knew he should have some more confidence in his relationship with Tobias, but it made him pause. Tobias killed people, and violently too. He pulled out their intestines and used them to string his violins. There was nothing to suggest that, for whatever reason, he would draw the line at lying to and manipulating Franklyn.

“My relationship with him,” Franklyn said, knowing that he should just leave Dr. Lecter’s comment alone but finding himself unable to. “It changed your opinion of me, didn’t it?”

“Franklyn.

“You think that because he means so much to me that I couldn’t see him objectively.”

Dr. Lecter took a deep breath before setting his notepad aside. “I know that you are struggling to figure out many aspects of your relationship with Tobias. And for your sake, I hope that the two of you will come to some mutual agreement and understanding. However, when that time comes, it will be accompanied by the guidance and support of a different therapist.”

“We’re… we’re figuring things out. Slowly.”

Dr. Lecter only nodded.

“You lost respect for me, didn’t you? Because I couldn’t bring myself to report Tobias.”

The patient waiting room door opened and Franklyn startled, his heart continuing to race. Tobias stood in the doorway, winter coat draped over an arm.

“You couldn’t?” Tobias echoed.

“Tobias,” Franklyn said, standing as Tobias closed the door behind him. “Tobias, what are you doing here?”  

“I came to say goodbye, Franklyn.”

“‘Goodbye?’ No, wait.”

Franklyn swallowed hard as his therapist stood and turned to face Tobias. Their eyes were locked in a silent conversation, accented by Tobias’ deep, steady breaths and Dr. Lecter’s cold stare. He knew that he should get out as soon as he could; that he should let them deal with each other.

Except.

“Tobias, you’re bleeding.”

“I know,” Tobias said, not moving to acknowledge the blood trailing from the ragged, bloody shell of his ear, down his neck, and staining his white collar. “I just killed two men.”

“Tobias,” Franklyn repeated as he approached him, trying to get him to stop focusing on Dr. Lecter. “Tobias, what happened?”

“The FBI came to investigate my shop. I couldn’t let them leave.”

Franklyn looked between Tobias and his therapist again, Dr. Lecter’s eyes dark as he stared down Tobias from across the room.

“This has gone too far,” Franklyn said, taking a few steps closer. “Tobias. Tobias, look at me. I know… I know you don’t actually want to live like this. If there’s any time for you to come clean you can do it now. This…” He looked back at Dr. Lecter, but there was an intensity behind his eyes that let Franklyn know that he was the last thing on his mind. “This is treatable.”

“I know what I want, Franklyn.”

“No. I know you don’t want to hurt people. This isn’t you, Tobias. You’re more than that.”

“Franklyn,” Dr. Lecter said, not taking his eyes off of Tobias, “I want you to leave now.”

“No,” Tobias said, his tone harsh and commanding. “Stay right where you are.”

“I’m here. I’m here, Tobias. I won’t leave you.”

“I want you to see this.”

Tobias took a step towards Dr. Lecter and Franklyn quickly stood between them.

“Tobias, don’t,” he said, not glancing back at his therapist. “He has nothing to do with this.”

“He’s why I’m here,” Tobias said. “I know that now.”

“W-what? What do you mean ‘now’?” Franklyn stepped closer and put a hand over Tobias’ coat-covered arm. “Tobias, I… I won’t pretend to know what’s going through your mind. But I know part of you must be terrified. But you’re not alone. I’ll find someone who will defend you. I’ll find someone who can help you. And I’ll be here for you. I’m right here, Tobias. I always will be, I promise.”

Franklyn was only briefly aware of a soft hand against the side of his jaw before he felt a sharp pain in his neck and all the color in the room blurred into a dark gray mass that swallowed him whole.

 

 

  

Franklyn felt a plush rug against his cheek as he awakened to forceful grunts and the sound of furniture crashing to the floor. His eyes focused forward, remembering looking up at Tobias what must have been only a second ago. He didn’t know why his neck ached and his hands were numb. Nevertheless, he put them down on the carpet and tried to push himself up, but he stopped. Looking down at his palm he saw blood and broken glass, even though he couldn’t feel any of it. It was then that he realized the familiar metal frame of the side table lay next to him, the glass top shattered across the floor.

He slowly sat up, leaning against the back of Dr. Lecter’s chair. Through the ringing in his ears he listened to two men fighting behind him – the rustling of clothing and the sound of limbs colliding with a wooden desk. The sound of connected blows slowly drifted away from the desk and to the ladder behind him. Franklyn looked to the door, only a few yards away. He was sure that if he could get up he would be able to get out without either man able to do anything to stop him as he ran to the relative safety of his car. If he were able to run, that is.

As he planned a quick escape Franklyn noticed that the panic he had been feeling for hours had finally subsided. He felt nothing as he was faced with the fact that if he didn’t leave immediately then he would be placing his life in very real danger. He had to move, but for whatever reason he was not afraid.

Perhaps his worst fears had already struck him, throwing him aside as the two lions he felt in the room left him to fight each other.

Working on the odds that Tobias didn’t lock the door behind him, Franklyn got to his knees, eyes focused on the door. Although his hands tingled with numbness he reached down and felt his car keys in his pocket. As long as he kept his balance, he could probably be in his car in under ten seconds. He wasn’t sure where he would run to after that. Before Tobias talked to him the night before, he had never really thought in earnest about running away.

And even then he only did so imagining that Tobias would lead him.

He took a breath, hoping that he wasn’t so disoriented that he wouldn’t be able to walk. However, before he could start to stand he heard a horrible crack of bones and Tobias screamed in pain. Franklyn’s heart froze, the familiar panicked nausea churning in his stomach as Tobias shouted in anguish through his breaths.

If he did nothing, he thought, Tobias could die.

He wasn’t sure where this thought came from, but it felt as real as the blood that pounded in his ears. There was no time for Franklyn to tell himself that his fears weren’t real and simply running away was no longer an option.

Franklyn turned around and peered over the back of the chair, seeing Tobias swing at Dr. Lecter. They were both disheveled and bloody, Tobias’ arm hanging limply at his side. Dr. Lecter blocked Tobias’ blow and hit him hard in the throat. There was a horrible gasp for air as Tobias fell to his knees, struggling for breath through his crushed windpipe.

Not as breathless, Dr. Lecter stood above Tobias, panting and rubbing at a bleeding wrist. Franklyn sat in silence, waiting for his therapist to return to his desk and call the police.

And then he realized, as he should have expected as he watched over his shifted reality, this was not how things would end.

Dr. Lecter scoffed as he looked down at Tobias, still gasping and collapsed on the floor. Turning, he removed his pocket square and approached a large bronze sculpture of an elk that had long been displayed beside the many bookcases. He lifted it, his muscular form straining under the weight.

Franklyn opened his mouth to cry for Dr. Lecter to stop, but he paused. There was a reason why he hadn’t gone to the phone as soon as Tobias was unable to move. There was a reason why a thin cloth was between the bronze sculpture and the distinctive marks of Dr. Lecter’s fingertips. And with the quiet acceptance that there would be no diplomatic way to end this, Franklyn’s eyes drifted down to the sturdy metal frame of the familiar glass table.

Neither man noticed Franklyn rise to his feet and pick the metal table frame off the floor. It was heavy, but not so much so that he wasn’t able to carry it. He knew he only had one shot to do this; that the blow had to connect with Dr. Lecter’s back or shoulder. If he hit his neck or head then it was very possible that he wouldn’t be able to get back up.

Franklyn looked back to the bronze elk, which had been carried even closer to Tobias.

It was a chance Franklyn was willing to take.

Dr. Lecter adjusted his grip on the sculpture and began to raise it above him. In his mind, Franklyn could already hear the terrible crack of it colliding with the top of Tobias’ bowed head.

Franklyn took a breath and the panic was gone, just as it had left earlier. He knew what he had to do, and with the table frame in his hands there was no turning back now.

Tobias was all he thought of as Franklyn took those few steps towards them and pulled the table back before swinging it forward and up with a force entirely alien to him. The metal trembled, resonating in his hands as it collided with the back of Dr. Lecter’s head. The elk crashed to the floor, followed quickly by the doctor.

It was over and he felt nothing.

Tobias coughed, gripping onto the ladder with his one good arm as he slowly stood. He turned to face Franklyn, who looked down at the bright and glistening mark of blood that was left on the shining metal frame.

“Franklyn,” he said, his voice hoarse as he approached him. “You’re alive?”

Franklyn didn’t move for a long moment, eyes slowly dragging back and forth between the blood and the back of Dr. Lecter’s head. Eventually he nodded, but only once and with unfocused eyes.

“I saw him break your neck,” Tobias said, still sounding weak. “You collapsed.”

Franklyn didn’t say anything as he became aware of a dull ache in his neck that had begun to radiate down his spine.

“You saved my life.”

“Is he dead?”

Tobias looked down at Dr. Lecter and knelt beside his unmoving body. With his good arm he reached down towards his neck and felt for a pulse.

“No,” he answered, getting to his feet again. “But I think he’ll be out for a while.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to finish him?”

Franklyn said nothing as he set the table frame down on the floor, watching the blood leave a small trail on the rug. He looked at the red mark his own bloody palm had left on the shining metal.

“Franklyn, if we let him live then he’ll tell the police that we both attacked him. He’ll accuse you of killing Douglas Wilson and Jon-”

“I don’t feel innocent in what happened to Jon,” Franklyn said. “I’m not even sure if I wish you hadn’t done it, although I know I should.”

“You are innocent, Franklyn.”

“Not anymore.”

Tobias reached down and took Franklyn’s hand in his. “You’re bleeding.”

“What did you mean that you knew ‘now’ that you were here for Dr. Lecter?”

“I have bandages in the back of my car. I’ll fix you up before we leave.”

“Tell me, Tobias.”

Franklyn’s tone was neither urgent nor commanding, but his unmoved insistence made Tobias pause. He looked down at Dr. Lecter one last time before gently turning Franklyn away from him.

“I knew the FBI was told to investigate me,” Tobias said, his voice still strained from the blow he took to the throat. “And I only confessed to two people. I wanted to-”

“You came here to kill whoever betrayed your trust,” Franklyn said, picking Tobias’ coat off the floor. “You knew one of us would.”

Tobias didn’t answer as he opened the door for Franklyn.

“You thought it was me,” Franklyn said, not moving. “You came here to murder me.”

“Last night,” Tobias started, pausing to clear his throat and get his voice back under him again. “Last night I asked you if you thought I should be caught for what I had done. I would have sworn that your answer would have been unequivocally ‘yes’. But you didn’t say ‘yes,’ did you? I… I thought you would call the police. But you weren’t even angry. Doing what I thought we both needed to do would have been so much easier if you would have been furious. But you were… worried. And, in retrospect, I don’t know why I anticipated anything less. You… you’re a good, kind person, Franklyn. I thought that you would have report-”

“-I don’t know what sort of person I am anymore. I don’t know who Dr. Lecter is anymore. I…”

Franklyn’s voice trailed off as he looked back to his therapist’s unmoving body. Tobias gently took Franklyn by the arm and guided him out the door and back to the patient waiting room.

“He’s killed people,” Tobias said. “I saw it with my own eyes. And… honestly, at first I thought I had found someone who could understand me. Someone who could not only know what I have done, but intimately understand why I did it. I thought I had found someone who thinks the way I do. As close as we are, I thought that it was part of me that you could never truly understand; that I could never have that kind of connection with you or anyone.”

“I still don’t understand you, Tobias.”

“That’s a good thing.” Tobias handed Franklyn his coat and scarf. “I got what I wanted with Dr. Lecter, and… I know I won’t be happier with someone who sees the world the way I do. I almost died because I found someone who was too much like me, and so did you. No, I… I need someone like you, Franklyn. And I won’t ask you to understand me like he did. I could never want to change that part of you.” He paused, coughing for a moment. “I never want to experience losing you again.”

Franklyn said nothing as he listened and helped Tobias into his winter coat as much as Tobias’ broken arm would allow. They left Dr. Lecter’s home and stepped onto the snowy sidewalk, the two men nothing more than quiet dark silhouettes against the white coldness surrounding them.

“Are you going to be alright, Franklyn?”

“I don’t know.” He followed Tobias to his car, looking at the suit bags and carry-on luggage sitting in the back seat. “I should be crying, shouldn’t I? And I’m sure I will, just not now. Perhaps tonight. Perhaps over dinner about a week from now. Alone or on a crowded bus. And I’ll be inconsolable and embarrassing. And I’ll keep going until I get a headache, and even then I won’t be able to stop no matter how much I want to.”

Tobias opened the back seat and pulled a first aid kit out from his carry-on. Franklyn looked from Tobias’ broken arm to the stab wound blossoming red under his clothes. He looked at Tobias’ ear, torn bloody from he couldn’t even imagine what. And yet Tobias handed the kit to him for the few shallow cuts on his hand. A knot tied in Franklyn’s throat as he looked down at the small white box, finding himself unable to take it.

“Franklyn,” Tobias murmured, pulling him close.

The warmth of his chest was familiar now, and welcome against the cold air. He breathed in the scent of sulfur and blood and cologne. A quiet suggestion of maple sawdust was under it all, reminding Franklyn of the half-carved violins that Tobias was willing to abandon with the rest of the Chordophone String Shop. Tobias’ lips pressed into the curls of his hair and Franklyn nuzzled against the soft fabric of Tobias’ lapel.

“If you don’t let go, that crying will start now,” Franklyn said, stepping back and looking up at him. “And as I was saying, I don’t know when that will happen and I know I won’t be able to have much restraint. But I know I’ll stop crying eventually. And I know that after it’s all over that I want you to be there.”

Tobias placed the first aid kit in Franklyn’s hands and looked down at him. “Is that your way of saying that you’ll come with me?”

Franklyn nodded. “First drive me home. I have a sling you can use from when I sprained my shoulder a few years ago. And I should have something that will help you hide and bandage your ear. I’m sure you don’t want anyone asking questions as we go through security.”

“You should have time to pack,” Tobias said. “I’ll ask you one more time, Franklyn: are you sure you’re okay with being seen as an accomplice in all this? Your family will know. Your co-workers. The press will say you had a hand in killing Douglas Wilson and… quite a few others.”

“That feels like less of a lie than saying I had nothing to do with it. Right now I don’t care what people say about me. About both of us.” Franklyn nodded at the car and Tobias got behind the wheel. First aid kit in hand, Franklyn got in the passenger’s seat and sat down, looking at his car and his former therapist’s house one last time. “Everything changed from what it was only twenty-four hours ago for me. At the beginning of it, I wanted to blame you for… for everything. I wanted to believe that I couldn’t be a part of this; that I couldn’t _want_ to be a part of this.”

“No matter where we go,” Tobias said as he started the car, “I’ll protect you. I know you’re here now, but… you never would have asked for this under normal circumstances.”

“You’re checking your mirrors a lot,” Franklyn said, wanting to change the subject. Tobias smiled faintly; letting him.

“Because there were three FBI agents who came to investigate me. The last one I locked in the basement after he shot my ear off. I figured that should buy me some time before I was followed.” He turned off the leafy streets and onto the main road. “But there’s no reason why anyone would be waiting for me at your apartment. However, after Dr. Lecter wakes up I’m not sure how much time you’ll have. You’ll have to throw only a few essentials into a suitcase. I have enough funds to buy you more clothes once we land.”

Franklyn looked up at the streetlights as they turned on and it began to snow. Down the street a police car drove by, the officer turning onto some other road on a late afternoon patrol. He could see Tobias’ shoulders relax as the moment of quiet alarm ended as quickly as it began.

“I’m already packed,” Franklyn said. “I have been ever since this morning.”

“Did you know this would happen?”

“I knew something would.”

Tobias winced as he rested his broken arm down at his side, reaching as much as he could to Franklyn. Franklyn took his hand in his. As they traveled down the roads towards familiar streets, Franklyn listened to the hum of the engine and Tobias’ weak but steady breaths.


End file.
